1. |
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I was in a Chinese restaurant on a wintry
afternoon
The dim sum gals were making their rounds,
calling out their dim sum tune
I was just about to choose a dish and pour
myself some tea
When a Chassid came in, looked around,
then he walked right up to me.
He said, “I know you’re Jewish, I see the
kugel in your face
“And I know you’re wondering what a Jew
like me is doing in this place
“I’m not here to give you grief about what
you do or how
“I’ve just come to give you a chance to
perform a little mitzvah now.”
And I don’t care what kind of Jew you
are
The kind of Jew you are is fine with me
If your Mom was Jewish then you’re up
to par
You’re as ekht as I need you need to be
You may eat treyf and khazeray
But that doesn’t mean you don’t qualify
A Jew’s a Jew, no one can deny—
You’ve got a Torah-clad warranty.
“There’s a small beys midrash down the
street where we’re reading the Gemara
through
“And when time for Minkha rolls around,
we’re often short a man or two
“To complete our minyan I always go where
there’ll be Jews to spare
“That’s any good Chinese restaurant—I
know I’ll find a lantsman there.”
And I don’t care what kind of Jew you
are
The kind of Jew you are is fine with me
And now’s your chance to be a Jewish
star
’Cause if a minyan’s a lock, then you are
a key
And I don’t care on what you feed
Or the kind of Jewish life you lead
I’m a Jew in need of a Jew in deed
And you will suit me to a tee
Now, a mitzvah is a mission that a Jew
cannot refuse
And you’re not a mentsh if you stand by and
don’t help your fellow Jews
So I got up, put on my coat without delay or
fuss
When some guys at a nearby table said, “If
you’re going to daven, wait for us!”
And I don’t care what kind of Jew you
are
The kind of Jew you are is fine with me
Even if you haven’t had a bar
You’re a leaf on the family tree
You may only-go-to-shul on Yom Kippur
Or lead the life of a goy gamur
But with Jews there’s no such thing as
“pure”
So buddy, you’re the Jew for—
You may not think it’s very cool
But the genes in your particular pool
Say, “Would it be so bad if you went to
shul?”
And buddy, that’s a Jew to—
Shmulik, that’s a Jew to—
Yingl, that’s a Jew to me.
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2. |
Street Corner Havdala
03:19
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On shabis banakht, banakht, banakht,
banakht
On shabis banakht (On shabis ba—On
shabis ba—On shabis banakht)
On shabis banakht —
On Saturday evening
When the weather is good
I meet with my buddies
In our neighbourhood
We watch on the corner
For three stars in the sky
Then we sing out so sweetly
“Borukh atah adoshem”
Our baritone’s Bernie
Arnie sings bass
High tenor is Izzie
He’s our falsetto ace
Our voices rise upwards
(In Hebrew – “l’mala”)
In a street corner havdala.
Ha-mavdil beyn kodesh
Beyn kodesh l’khol
Separates shabis
From the week as a whole
Beyn or l’khoshekh
Yisrael l’amim
Everything in its place—
It’s that old Jewish theme.
We haven’t got spices
We haven’t got wine
No havdala candle
With wicks intertwined
Just our harmony closer
Than khosn and kalah
In our street corner havdala.
A pizza’s our spices
A soda’s our wine
A streetlamp’s our candle
So brightly does shine
Don’t look in the Zohar
We’re not talking kabbala –
It’s our street corner havdala [falsetto]
On shabis banakht (On shabis ba—On
shabis ba—On shabis banakht)
On shabis banakht (On shabis ba—On
shabis ba—On shabis banakht)
HAV-DA-LA!
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3. |
Cholent
02:49
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Well I used to spend the weekend with a friend from Hebrew school
His folks were shomer shabis and when we got home from shul
They put a big pot on the table and shabis dinner would begin
First his dad would say “Hamotzi,” then he’d tell us to dig in:
He’d say: “It’s time for some cholent
And a gleyzele vayn
Because shabis means cholent
In this mishpokhe of mine.”
Well, first you brown flanken chopped onions, garlic too
Add carrots and tomatoes and dried beans to the brew
A small coil of kishke turn the oven down low
Add water and cover cook it long, cook it slow.
That’s how you make cholent
It bakes overnight
Next day you eat cholent
The shomer shabis delight.
Now some say it’s “stodgy” they say it’s “heavy as lead”
But when you’ve had cholent well, you know you’ve been fed
It fills every crevice it plugs every leak
Don’t even think about eating till shabis next week.
So try a bisele cholent
And bid hunger adieu
Ess gezunt and eat cholent
Good and good for you, too
Mmmm, ch- ch- ch- cholent
It’s shabat in a stew
I'm talkin’ ’bout cholent
It says “Good shabis” to you
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4. |
Fork Garden
04:03
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With Mum and Dad gone we were cleaning the house
Where they’d lived since they’d moved there in ’78
There were his clothes and her clothes and hundreds of photos
And dozens of medicines long out of date
The shabis menorah was there on the mantle
The Passover cups in a cabinet nearby
A drawer of taleysim in bags of blue velvet
Two bottles, unopened, of Crown Royal rye.
Then my little daughter came up and said, “Daddy
“Come see the ‘fork garden’ I found over here” —
We went to the kitchen where Mum had grown houseplants
In splendid profusion for many’s a year
My daughter then pointed to pieces of silverware
Stuck in the soil round the rim of each pot
And mem’ries rushed into my mind as I realized
What I was seeing and had almost forgot.
I said to her, “Sweetheart, when I was just little
“I’d make a mistake and I’d use the wrong fork:
“Milkhig for fleyshig and fleyshig for milkhig
“I’d just grab whatever utensil would work
“So Bobie would bury it out in the garden
“And after three days it was kosher again
“And as Zeyda got older, he too got forgetful
“And kept Bobie busy right through till the end.”
My daughter’s grown into a lovely young woman
Too young to remember her bobie back then
But often when we’re telling old family stories
She mentions her bobie’s fork garden again.
Sometimes a monument needn’t be made out of
Marble and stand in a big public square
Sometimes it only takes forks stuck in potting soil
To call up a life of devotion and care.
It’s bobie’s fork garden
My mother’s fork garden
It’s Bushie’s fork garden ….
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5. |
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Everyone loves shabbes but the chickens
They don’t think the holiday is fair
They know they’re always asked to shabbes dinner
But they realize it’s all downhill from there
Chickens as a rule stick close together
And they don’t like to stray far from the coop
So shabbes makes them insecure
’Cause one by one, they’re plat du jour
As shmaltz, chopped liver, main course, and the soup.
Everyone loves shabbes but the chickens
Who fear that shabbes fare might make us bored
In fact, they worry lest their fellow creatures
Might think that shabbes-wise they’ve been ignored—
They wonder if we might prefer some brisket
Roast turkey, flanken, ribs, or New York strips
Pastrami, kishke, matza brei
Salami or corned beef on rye
Or takeh, how about some fish and chips?
Everyone loves shabbes but the chickens
But they appreciate how much it means
To Jews wherever they may be residing—
Toronto, Paris, or the Philippines
And so they wish us all a guten shabbes
(That is, of course, if they could really speak)
They’d thank us for a pleasant year
And say, “Im yirtza shem, ba dir!”—
Then hope that they could say the same next week.
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6. |
Eliyahu
04:35
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Come in, Traveler, come and dine
Matza, karpas, moror, wine
You have traveled many a mile
Join our seder for a while.
We have longed for your return
With the one for whom we yearn
Do not linger at our door
Come inside—your cup is poured.
Kol dikhfin yeytey v’yeykhol
Peysakh iz g’kumen nokh a mol
Kol ditzrikh yeytey v’yifsakh
Kol marbeh l’saper, harey ze m’shubakh.
Eliyahu ha-navi
Break our chains and set us free
Eliyahu, hear our prayer
How long must we suffer here?
As we sing, we beg of you
Bimheyra b’yameynu
Help in this, our time of need
Im mashiyakh ben david.
Come all ye that yearn for bread
Dine and be deliverèd
Join our seder, every Jew
Which of the four sons are you?
As we read the Hagadah
Kadesh, Halel, Khad Gadya
Share the bread of misery
Taste the joy of being free.
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7. |
A Scottish Tale of Purim
00:53
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’Twas the eve of the eve before Purim
In the dark streets of Jewish Dundee
Where a young Scot named Hamish McCohen
Tried out his new greggar with glee.
He was making a godawful racket
Worse than beating a cymbal or drum
When a voice shouted out of the darkness—
“Where’s that infernal noise coming from?”
Said Hamish, “It’s me and ma greggar!”
But the voice said, “Noo, tha’ cannae be!
“For I can see you’re alone on the sidewalk
“And as for McGregor, that’s me!”
So Hamish quit twirling his greggar
And tucked it up under his kilt
Where it rested beneath his dress sporran
Which stuck out at a curious tilt.
He decided to visit his girlfriend
Who smiled as she opened the door
And that’s when the wee lassie noticed
The tilt in the kilt that he wore.
She said, “Hamish, what’s under your kilt, dear?”
“It’s ma greggar,” said Hamish, “Come see!”
“Well, I’ve heard it called Peter or Thomas,” she said
“But McGregor’s a new one on me!”
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8. |
Shepherd
04:34
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CHORUS
Shepherd, feed my sheep
Keep them from all harm
Rain or cold, in the fold
Sheltered from the storm
Shepherd, guard my flock
Never let them roam
When they stray from their way
Guide them safely home.
Jacob was a shepherd tending Laban’s rams and ewes
Laban tricked him so he first wed the daughter he did not choose
But Jacob prospered with his flock, beat Laban at his cheating game
Wrestled with an angel and he got himself a brand new name.
Moses was a shepherd; traded scepter for a shepherd’s crook
Found a lamb that had strayed away to drink water from a distant brook
[spoken: And Moses said:]
“If I’d known you had such thirst, I’d have brought you here by my own hand” –
So Moses cared for Israel as he led them to the Promised Land.
David was a shepherd tending Jesse’s flock
Watching for the prowling wolf, mindful of the hawk
When a lion came to steal a lamb, David slew him with his sling
That is how he guarded Israel, our sweet-singing shepherd-king.
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9. |
My Mother’s Old Menorah
03:05
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Every family has its heirlooms
Its precious souvenirs
Handed down through generations
Kept safe for years and years
Some are made of gold or silver
But there are dearer ones by far
That show us where we came from
And tell us who we are ––
My mother’s old menorah
She loved it, ken ayn horah
Like a khokhem loves gemorah
Like Joseph loved his dream
She polished that menorah
Till it shone like the aurora
You could read a sefer torah
By the brass’s golden gleam.
When Mama died she passed her old menorah on to me
Now every erev shabis we light it faithfully
You can search from Gloccamora
To the isle of Bora Bora
You won’t find a menorah
Like my mother left to me.
The old menorah seems to listen each time we recite
The blessing Mama taught us to light the Sabbath lights
As I roam the diaspora
From Kabul to Kenora
My mother’s old menorah
Is a beacon in the night.
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10. |
Angels to the Light
04:35
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On Friday night at our house as soon as twilight fell
Mama lit the Sabbath candles and cast a wondrous spell
She pressed her fingers to her eyes and as the candles gleamed
She blessed them and she welcomed in the holy Sabbath Queen.
Mum’s blessing was in Yiddish, ancient woman’s lore
She’d learned from her own mother many years before
“Lekovid shabis, lekovid gott” was all that we could hear
The rest she said in whispers meant for Another’s ear.
And we never thought to learn the Sabbath blessing Mum would say
It’s the first thing I would ask her for if she were here today
But I know she spoke with angels as she prayed there in the night
“Evil angels to the darkness, blessed angels to the light.”
The years took Mama’s memory and locked it all away
She stood before the candles and had no words to say
So we said, “Lekovid shabis, lekovid gott” to help her start
And knew that God would hear the rest that Mum had in her heart.
And we never thought to learn the Sabbath blessing Mum would say
It’s the first thing I would ask her for if she were here today
But I know she spoke with angels as she prayed there in the night
“Evil angels to the darkness, blessed angels to the light.”
There were words in Mama’s blessing she said once, then said again
I remember as a child I thought they sounded like a train —
[SPOKEN: “Tzu di likht” – “fun di likht” – “tzu di likht” – “fun di likht” –like that. After Mum couldn’t say her blessing anymore, I asked her sisters, my aunts, about it. They each had a different version, but they all had that phrase: it was “Gute mlokhim tzu di likht, beyze
mlokhim fun di likht,”—“Good angels to the light, evil angels from the light.” The idea of Mum conjuring angels around the Shabis candles took my breath away. I realized that –]
— Mama’s words were doing more than any of us knew
For with the Sabbath lights, Mum blessed our house and family too.
And we never thought to learn the Sabbath blessing Mum would say
It’s the first thing I would ask her for if she were here today
But I know she spoke with angels as she prayed there in the night
“Evil angels to the darkness, blessed angels to the light.”
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11. |
Finders, Kippers
02:35
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Oh, it’s time for breakfast but if you please
I don’t want my usual toast and cheese
I’m tired of bagels and soft boiled eggs
When I sit down at the table in the morn.
I’ve had it with bread and jelly and jam
I don’t eat bacon and I don’t eat ham
I want something different on my breakfast
plate
When I sit down at the table in the morn.
Well, I went to the deli just down the street
And I asked what they had that I wanted to
eat
The waitress chewed her pencil and then she
asked
“Have you ever thought of kippers in the
morn?
They’re sweet and smoky with a golden hue
The English love them and so will you
They’re great with bagels and cheaper than
lox
They’re a natural for your breakfast in the
morn.”
Oh, dem golden kippers
Oh, dem golden kippers
Golden kippers I love so well
There’s nothing can compete
Oh, dem golden kippers
Oh, dem golden kippers
Golden kippers I love so well
And that’s what I shall eat.
Now, dem golden kippers have such appeal
That I like to eat a dozen at every meal
I eat ’em at supper and I eat ’em at lunch
And not just breakfast in the morn.
Wash ’em down with coffee, wash ’em
down with tea
Eat a golden kipper and you’ll agree
That this smoky little, golden little herring
fish
Is the best you ever “et” since you were
born.
Oh, dem golden kippers
Oh, dem golden kippers
Golden kippers I love so well
There’s nothing can compete
Oh, dem golden kippers
Oh, dem golden kippers
Golden kippers I love so well
And that’s what I shall eat.
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12. |
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As my children light the candles
On Chanukah tonight
I watch their faces shining
In the old menorah’s light
And I wonder if for them these lights
Will keep their magic glow
And I ask myself a question
Whose answer I would give the world to know –
Will their children light the candles
Will they watch them with delight
Will they see their quiet splendour
As they shine there in the night
Will they tell the ancient story
Of this time, long ago
Will they see Maccabees and miracles
In the candles’ gentle glow.
Will their children light the candles
Will they make their dreydls spin
Will they know what all the letters mean
Nun, gimel, hey and shin
Will they sing the ancient melodies
Will they say the ancient prayers
Will their children light the candles
And know that they are theirs?
Will their children light the candles
Will they lead Jewish lives
Will they marry Jewish husbands
Will they marry Jewish wives
Or will they look on, puzzled
And wonder, “Why the fuss?
“What on earth is Chanukah
“What’s it got to do with us?”
Will they know a bisl Yiddish
And the Old World it evokes
Will they get the bitter irony
Will they understand the jokes?
Will they feel the joys and sorrows
That every Jew has known
Will their children light the candles
And know them for their own?
Will they know that being Jewish
Is to be chosen and to choose
To be apart and separate–
To be “other,” to be Jews
Will they know this is our glory
Our fate, our doom, our pride
Will their children light the candles
That make them sanctified?
Will their children light the candles
When all is said and done
Or will 10,000 generations
Be lost in just their one?
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13. |
Home for Shabbes
02:28
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The subway cars are rolling
And folks are heading home
It’s Friday afternoon, the week is done
As my companions squeeze past, doorward
I know they’re looking forward
To a weekend’s worth of R&R and fun
But when Jewish riders leave the car behind
There’s something very different on their mind —
Shabat shalom, shabat shalom
It’s home we must be getting
We’re late for an important date
The sun is almost setting.
Shabat shalom, shabat shalom
We really must be going
We have to bless the lights before
The evening star is showing.
We’re doctors, lawyers, teachers,
tailors
Sellers and investors
But tomorrow we will all be
Grateful shabis resters
Shabat shalom, we’re going home
The place will soon be humming
The table’s spread, the wine is poured
The whole mishpokhe’s coming.
It’s time for shul and candles
And a little peace and quiet
And maybe just for shabis
We’ll forget about the diet—
We’ll eat gefilte fish and chrayn
Roast chicken, farfel kugelakh
Potato knishes, carrot tsimmes
Angel cake and rugelakh
Shabat shalom, shabat shalom
I love those shabis dishes
If anyone’s my favourite
I would say gefilte fish is!
So bless the candles and the wine
You bobelakh and zeydelakh
Sing zmires round the table
All you yingelakh and meydelakh—
Shabat shalom, shabat shalom
The best of shabis wishes
A day of rest, a day of peace
And lots of love and knishes.
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14. |
Ani Adam
03:26
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Im eyn ani li, mi li?
U’kh’she’ani l’atsmi, ma ani?
V’im lo akhshav, v’im lo akhshav, eymatay?
Higid l’kha adam ma tov
U-ma ha-shem doresh mim’kha
Ki im asot mishpat
V’ahavat khesed
V’hatzneya lekhet im elokekha.
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Shelley Posen Ottawa, Ontario
SHELLEY POSEN is a Canadian songwriter and performer of his own and traditional songs. He writes in many styles and on many subjects. His songs are widely recognized for their wit, craftsmanship, and the profound effect many seem to have on listeners.
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